Long Qt Poems
Long Qt Poems. Below are the most popular long Qt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Qt poems by poem length and keyword.
March 2011
Alzheimer’s unit
A light-fingered kleptomaniac
Among the residents.
If you want to keep something,
Do not bring it with you; and hand
your car keys to the nurses at the front desk
but pray they will not be called away, forgetting
your keys are there.
We decorated Dad’s shared eight by ten room
in reds and blacks, and gave him a large teddy bear
He grinned like a four year old, but he was eighty years older
One of the grandkids started to leave an I-phone around.
I snatched it up and threw it into my trusty back pack.
The nurse nodded at me. “Dick,” she said. “DICK!”
Dad looked past her, not seeing her, or maybe any of us.
It was as if his name meant nothing now,
as if he was as nameless as the TV set, black chair and walls.
“Are you cold, Dick?” He did not blink, smile or respond.
She got right in his face, and spoke to him with a lower voice.
“I am sorry,” she told us. “He is better on sunny days.”
It was raining. After she left he went in and out of people-land.
Sometimes when he looked at me I caught a glimpse of recognition.
He knew he knew me, he did not know how though.
I got him ice water, for that is what he told me he never had.
There was a full pitcher there, but he wanted the good Q.T. ice water
So I went to Q.T. and got two giant foam cups and
gave him the good ice water.
He begged me to take him home. Pleading with me.
“Let’s just go,” he said. “I want to go home! “
My mother had told me I would know when it was time to go.
I listened to the pleading until it stopped.
Then he stared past me, through me, as if I was a window.
He was not my dad anymore.
Just a man who had no idea who I was.
A man who did not know me at that second.
A man who would forget to swallow in a couple of weeks.
Mom was right, it was time to go.
I gave him a little pat on his shoulder, but he
Did not turn or make eye contact or anything.
It was my last visit with my father.
Keep this under your hat, guys....I'm just back from an undercover investigation of
what turned out to be a real hidden nest of Alien invaders....they foolishly made
serious strategic mistakes, which, of course, your favorite spy here, caught on to
immediately. Quick recap.....remember, this is on the Q.T.!
I penetrated an alien cell in the Vassar Brothers Medical Center in upstate New
York. I'll explain how.....shhhhhh!!!!!.....I was admitted under the pretext of 1)being
dead 2)mentally unbalanced! Imagine that!!
First thing I noticed is some of the alien technology thay failed to mask
adequately....they were all walking around talking with their shirt pockets...which
somehow seemed to answer...now, that's just a plum give-away!!!! Next, I
noticed a plastic container hanging on the wall, marked, foolishly, I'd
think...."Impervious Gowns"....yeah, right, like such a thing exists! Come on,
where'd ya get it, from Superman? There were smaller clues too; like what
earthling would have a bright red food blender/mixer hanging on the wall? Come
on. Martians, you can do better than that!!!! But the clincher, the absolute proof,
was when I finally peeked out the door....the whole buiding was totally round!!! I
was actually IN a flying saucer!!!! Pretty cool, huh? And the stuff they labeled as
food was, certainly not of this earth....they even had something they
euphemistically labelled a "Cheeseburger"? It was obviously an alien child's
plastic toy, or perhaps, a concealable weapon....it obviously would be fatal is one
were struck with such a thing..... and I'll report on my O.H.S.A. investigation as
well, next week. And I escaped, undetected!!! Pretty classy, right? Okay- enough
for now.....remember.....this is not to be discussed, officially, it did NOT happen,
and my alias, (agent) Benjamin (call me Ben) Dover....report is now
concluded....regards, Ben Dover!
In the cold of the morn with a crisp cloudy day…
A flat tire assailed a young girl, as she went on her way.
Young and full of life but definitely overwhelmed…
She was late for work and her husband had just nearly died.
She sat in her car, sniffling, worrying, and crying some wails.
She’d never changed a tire, a young husband always there.
But hurt he’d become, and in the hospital now remained…
It was up to her, suddenly alone, to make things right again.
She fretfully tried AAA but the wrong number was wrung…
Till Old Granny Goodness appeared with hope, and some fun.
She quickly got her out of the car, and found everything there.
Explaining what to do, Granny decided to entertain with flair.
Together they’d use a spare tire to fix that rickety old car.
They figured out the jack and successfully lifted the car.
But lug nuts are hard and need strength to unleash…
So granny fussed and she bug-tussled but never gave up
Till the young girl laughing, knew what she must do herself…
Grabbing deep into her courage, she ran into the QT for help.
Sure enough, a worker volunteered to help that sweet young thing out.
And the lug nuts came off lickety-split with laughter on top.
The young man was gracious, and ever so kind and…
Yes, he finished the job with his best smile and in record time
And of course he helped put everything away, too, you can bet…
He even helped Old Granny Goodness up off the ground where she sat.
Then with a salute and fare thee well, he went back inside…
While Old Granny Goodness, and the girl put air in the tires.
By now the girl was the lead in the work as she smiled and laughed…
She was empowered; you know… there’s nothing wrong with that.
Yes, the world was saved as all found their way home, with a wink, at last.
Yes, with gratitude, a hug, and a smile… many a way can be found again.
Contest:Write me a Happy Poem 10-31-2011 CSEastman
As always when in the initial throes
of writing what I strive to concoct viz
pièce de ré·sis·tance,
which grandiose whim fizz
hills with utter futility, nonetheless this
nondescript husband under
scores comment, while pulling his
grizzled hair of chinny chin chin,
and emphasizing that mine
literary effort ain't no whiz,
whether expressing an insatiable hunger
for factual national world events,
weird news i.e. geico liz
heard eats dog,
(who swallowed homework) quiz
sic hull varying from opinion/editorial,
geopolitical related or showbiz,
but breathe deep, while setting loose
quiet riot of ideas,
which profuse accursed
process usually incorporates an overwhelming
growing exponentially cerebral burst
whereat impossible task
looms large, asper how to
zero on most agreeable needling
threadbare notion to come first
amidst the plethora of rampant analogous
to horde of infants
clamoring tubby nursed
bajillion ideas touting joyfulness
(re: l'chaim), or...mine
envisioned sorrowfully immersed
demise as select small group
of family and friends accompany
glassy transparent hearst
(which...shh... keep on the Q.T.
as figuratively utter by pursed
lips), of course no corps
(habeas corpus cited for no reason),
but liver worst
poisoning wrought unexpected demise,
AND cremation (in a free nation)
means body double
coffin before your eyes
doppelganger paid in blood
money and french fries
(duet to a solo salt craving) no lies,
hence an none nee moose penniless chap dies
in short shrift within schema of mortal guise
ashes scattered all points on the compass
one bitcoin player in the blockchain of life wise
lee subsumed within world
wide web, this fate hain't no surprize!
They're selling off our Airport, does anybody care?
The old Gazette's done nothing yet, no 'Save it' campaign there
The Echo there in Darlo seems quite reluctant to
Investigate the Peel Magnate and what they're pushing through
We contacted the BBC to find out what they thought
They built a reputation on injustices they've fought
But Inside Out's done less than nowt, it all seems too much hassle
Imagine the furore if it happened at Newcastle
It seems our dithering councillors sold off the legacy
Of half a million users, all done on the Q.T.
Our MPs tell us nothing, and, quieter than a mouse
Is the sinister young Minister of the Northern Poorhouse
Freedom of Information's not easy to obtain
Rumours of secret deals done, we hear now and again
But calls fall on deaf ears, to them it's all a game
Elected representatives should hang their heads in shame
It looks like asset-stripping, part of the business creed
As Peel dole out their reasons to mask their business need
And those we chose to serve us must surely think we're blind
I wonder who's being treated well, in my suspicious mind. CHING CHING.
We had a bustling airport, to us a little gem,
But giving up our heritage means simply nowt to them,
They're gonna build the factory sites and houses everywhere
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT. YOUTUBE
'AIRPORT' LOUIS SPENCE. Thank You
That Woody wanted to see me ASAP,
So we done met near downtown at the KFC.
He says he wants to tell me something FYI,
About some new TFB sorta cowboy guy.
“TFB?” I asks, “You talkin’ ‘bout an IOU
Or that BYOB barn dance the boss done threw?”
“Naw,” says Wood, “TFB means tumbleweeds for brains—
I guess you fills the bill if I has to explains!”
“Cowboy,” says I, “does you sees my FIST?
Well, I’m here to tell you its for a smart SOB
That thinks talkin’ in letters is on the QT,
When all it will get is a stone carved RIP!”
Wood took out runnin’ without my RSVP,
Hopped in his SUV like a rock star on MTV.
He headed back to the ranch through BLM land
With me right behind ‘em – was more than he could stand!
I trailed ‘em to Tombstone and that OK Corral
And when I caught ‘em, I was gonna show ‘em how
My ol’ tumbleweeds for brains done brung me so far
And just why he was gonna soon need CPR!
But his mouth was movin’ a hundred RPM—
Afraid I was gonna then and there do ‘em in!
“Now, Stoney,” he says, “on one point we do agree,
I was just speakin’ plain and not bein’ PC!”
Then ‘fore I hauls back my fist and he has a BM,
I gets to thinkin’ how he had always been a friend.
Well, we had done been the best pards before this mess—
So we just shook hands and called it male PMS!
If displaced, found nowhere, but in water
of the retention pond,
no longer in V-formation, nowhere
in the bluest sky,
however, beneath and at the behest
of angels, ruled by God,
it is my greenest eyes that you swim in,
as I exit the highway.
This exit didn’t exist when Mom was alive,
nor the quick stop, QT,
that I pass by, so close to my dad’s house.
On a cul-de-sac, road’s end,
I pull into his short, straight driveway, push
open the door, unlocked.
I quick-tell my story of the seized geese,
it was only mine to tell,
of how I saw their takeoff as if they were planes
leaving the lonely spot,
their brief stay with only my mind and heart
to excite; somewhere lifting
into the gray, blue day prodded on by
a host of angels.
Dad doesn’t recall the retention pond; is
it nowhere
but in my imagination; oh no,
it is so real, beyond nowhere, somewhere
where his eyes can’t see,
for Dad drives straight to the liquor store,
prepared to see olives
in his martini; but he’s happy to see geese fly
out my retentive mouth.
"Earthquake in a Tea Cup"
the earthquake
rocked through
a pink haze
soft and powdered
scent of lit smoke
flaming fires
hot oven baked
green apples
ripe skin sizzled
and popped
ice cool cinnamon crisp
lemon peeled martinis
black russians and they're
ripped unfriendly cousins
Long Island Iced teas and
Asian Pear Chit-Cha toddies
osmanthus oolong trading
asset smiles flying under
the Roger Ramjet radar
exploded rapturously
candied petals floating
hearts marachinoed
stevia sweetened cherries
skewered and buttered up
mercilessly on the q.t.
roses burnt apricots
she arrived shimmering
in the clouds
a seduction
ruffling feathers
in their
crème de la crème
tea cups shaking
their quiet worlds up
dominoes lined straight laced,
drugged and shot
they all thought
it was the second
coming
the world
was her stage
the fall out
was atomic
their shadows
scattered
nuclear imprints
incalculable,
the numbers
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Do you see the dragon in the woods?
It's trying to hide between the trees.
It doesn't seem evil to me so it must
Be good.
I am going to look. No! I don't think
You should.
We don't even know it's pedigree.
Do you see the dragon in the woods?
I wonder if it talks? Oh! It looks like
It's hurt. I see blood.
Really? I think we need to hide it on
The QT.
It doesn't seem evil to me so it must
Be good.
Look it stood.
Now it's bowing to me.
Do you see the dragon in the woods?
I was wondering how did you get so
Deep in to the wildwoods?
The less you know the better. Please,
Some one has to give it the third
Degree.
It doesn't seem evil to me so it must
Be good.
I was looking for you so I am glad my
Directions I misunderstood.
Goodness gracious. It can talk. Princess
Of the dragons I am here to deliver to
You your key.
Do you see the dragon in the woods?
It doesn't seem evil to me so it must
Be good.
Pirates were known for their notorious acts of
This or that.
I learned while traveling the seas
That they were A mean frat
With an endless rum vat
Which got them in to all kinds of troubles on their
Journeys.
Pirates were known for their notorious acts of
This or that
The worst one was a tit for a tat
On whoever was the appointee
In the government at the time got the full
Attention of the frat.
Usually it was some fat bureaucrat
Who was trying to do something on the QT.
Pirates were known for their notorious acts of
This or that
Yet, Once in a while they would slip up and expose
A government rat
Who got their large chest of bootie
Which the frat
Lost out on. Drat!
So much for being good time to sail
Off in to the sunset on to their next spree.
Pirates were known for their notorious acts of
This or that
They were a mean frat.